


Suddenly the World Seems a Perfect Place

by sluttytonystark



Series: I'll Dedicate Everyday to You [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Baby Peter Parker, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Pre-Iron Man 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 20:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttytonystark/pseuds/sluttytonystark
Summary: “Are you sure you're ready for this, Tony?”She wasn't being critical, she wasn't challenging him, it was an honest question plain as that.But the question shouldn't have been ‘was he ready,’ because of course he wasn't. He was scared shitless at the prospect of raising a child. He didn't know what he was doing, everything he'd learned so far had been only been learned from trial and error like a shitty high school science project.The question was, 'did he want this?’And the answer was yes.Always.





	Suddenly the World Seems a Perfect Place

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a high school sophomore, anything I know about custody laws is from the 4 websites I read about it and I literally have no idea of what a four year old is. What do they do? What do they look like? Shit I don't know. 
> 
> Anyways I'm not a lawyer so ✌🏼✌🏼✌🏼
> 
> Anyways here's the very belated prequel to this series

_2002_  

       _When Tony Stark stared down at the little bundle of blankets held in his arms_ , he knew immediately that it had been an awful idea to come here. The room smelt of a gross combination of the run-of-the-mill hospital antiseptic, sweat, and baby powder-- which could also just be from the child he held in his arms, not necessarily the room itself.

 

    He never understood the idea of people meeting their babies for the first time and immediately falling in love.

 

    That had changed-- just now, actually.

 

    It was like instinct had kicked in. He would do anything for this kid-- Peter, his name was Peter-- he’d take ten thousand bullets, give up his company, his money, everything.

 

    “ _Tony_ ,” said Mary Fitzpatrick, “We had a deal.”

 

    It was such a bad idea to have gone to that hospital. What was he even doing here, if not just making more for himself to regret? He’d had an awful father, one who’d made every mistake in the book, and Howard Stark wouldn’t have even known that, because Tony was pretty sure he’d never even _looked_ a parenting book. All Tony had to offer the world were weapons and a drinking problem, he was never going to be fit to have a child.

 

    It’s why he had agreed to Mary’s deal without needing much persuasion. Even if he were to have disagreed, who was he to argue with her? She was the child’s mother, she was in a serious, committed relationship, she might’ve been having a rough patch with her boyfriend at the time of their “encounter,” but still, they had a relationship a _hundred_ times better than any of which Tony had ever had.

 

     _“So it is mine,” Tony said._

 

_Mary rolled her eyes, “Seems like something I could have told you a week ago-- Wait, I did.”_

 

_Tony shrugged, “You aren’t the first woman whose claimed to be carrying my kid, I had to check.”_

 

_“Sure.”_

 

_That left Tony in a very uncomfortable position, he’d had pregnancy scares before, but this was the first time a pregnancy scare had turned into a little more than just a “scare.” He wasn’t sure where to go from there. He couldn’t have a kid-- he was a mess._

 

 _Was it fair to assume all she wanted was money? He would pay of course, he wasn’t_ that _bad. There was also a teeny tiny voice in the back of his head that said he wouldn’t disagree to taking the child if that was where this was going, but he was quick to squash that thought down._

 

_“I don’t want you to be involved.”_

 

_“What?”_

 

 _Mary was quick to correct herself, “Sorry. That was harsh. I just don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be involved,” she explained, “I’m happy with Richard, and he_ wants _to be this child’s father.”_

 

_“Even though it’s not his?”_

 

_Mary frowned, “Tony, you look at me, and you tell me you’re prepared for a child-- tell me that you even want one.”_

 

_Tony looked away and Mary nodded._

 

_“Right,” she said, “Point proven.”_

 

_Tony scowled, “Why are you even here then? To tell me just how badly I fucked up?”_

 

_“No,” she said tentatively, “You’re still the father, I figured you at least had the right to know-- and if you really wanted to be involved…”_

 

_Tony shook his head, “No. You’re right. I’d only fuck up that kid’s life if I was involved.”_

 

_“Tony…”_

 

_“No, really, it’s fine.”_

 

_Mary nodded, “Well… If you wanted to at least meet him…”_

 

_Tony shrugged, opting to keep any more of his feelings about the matter to himself. “I’ll think about it.” he said._

 

_And even if on the outside he acted cool and uncaring, he couldn’t deny his own feelings, because somewhere deep down, something him lit up, just a little bit. Mary had said ‘him’._

 

_He had a son._

 

    And there that boy was, in his arms, sleeping peacefully, and when Tony looked at him, he was filled with more regret than a life long sinner on his deathbed. It was _his_ child he held in his arms, and after today, he’d never be a part of this kid’s life ever again. He was awful, how could he just abandon his own child?

    

    But Mary and Richard had been so happy, _were_ still happy, he wasn’t about to take that away from them because he suddenly changed his mind on impulse. He wouldn’t be that person.

 

    Also, a blood chilling fear came over him when he thought about all the things that could go wrong if Tony stuck his nose in the tiny family’s life. He could ruin this child. Peter could turn out to be another Tony-- or even _worse_ than him if he stuck around. Tony could be like his father. Someone might hurt Peter to get to him. If Peter was raised with him, he would never have a normal life. He would be thrown into the spotlight that came with Tony’s fame, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything outside of the public eye. Peter would resent him.

    When Tony thought about it, he knew his son would be miserable living with him, and Tony didn’t want that for the kid.

 

    Tony had to go. He couldn’t be in that room anymore, so he handed the baby back to Mary’s fiance.

 

    “I should go,” he said.

 

    Mary nodded, and Tony headed for the door, looking back at the baby once more before leaving for good.

 

    On some sort of reckless impulse that he wondered if he might regret later, he turned back to the mother and said.  “You have my number, if you ever need anything,” he said, “And… Could you, uh-- send updates?”

 

    Mary smiled, “Sure, Tony.”

                                                                        ___

 

     _2006_

 _Rhodey had dealt with a bunch of Tony’s shit throughout the years,_ at this point, you could say he was desensitized to it. It’s why he hadn’t reacted as the others had when Tony randomly decided to pack everything up from his house in California and moved it to a house in New York. It wasn’t really that he didn’t care so much-- why his best friend had suddenly decided to move cross country had made him a _little_ curious, but with the things he’s put up with-- the things he’s _seen-_ \- from that man, him wanting a little change of scenery was like, thing number eight on the list of things he should worry about.

   

    What _was_ a cause for concern for him was the text his friend had sent him. They had read:

 

     _Tony: Oh my god, Rhodey._

_Tony: I have no idea what I’m doing_

_Tony: I can’t do this!_

_Tony: Jesus Christ, please send help._

 

The texts were so vague that Rhodey really had no idea what to expect, and when he’d texted back _“What’s going on?”_ He’d gotten no response, which led to thousands of ideas to spring up about what had happened to his friend. Maybe he was hurt, maybe he was drunk, maybe he was hurt _and_ drunk? Maybe he had finally lost it? Was he dead? Dying? Existential crisis?

 

    He’d been in New York to begin with, so with Tony currently taking residence in New York also, it was a great relief to Rhodey, because it meant that he didn’t have to go far to get to where he would check for the man first. He hadn’t told Pepper or Happy, or Stane about Tony’s frantic texts, for all he knew, it could just be Tony freaking out over nothing (as he’s done before,) and he didn’t want to raise any alarm. So he went to the man’s house in Manhattan, and searched there first.

 

    Rhodey knocked on the door, hoping that Tony would answer, be A-Okay, and just be freaking out about nothing. But Tony didn’t answer, Jarvis did.

 

    “Good evening, Colonel Rhodes,” the AI greeted, “The boss is currently unable to come to the door, however the door is unlocked, and he would like me to send you in.”

 

    Rhodey stepped into the house, and based on Jarvis’ seemingly lack of concern, he figured that while Tony might’ve had his hands full with whatever, he at least wasn’t dying or anything like that.

 

    There was a clatter in the kitchen followed by an obscenity yelled by Tony, and giggling..? There were the sounds of footsteps scurrying away from something or someone, and then the sound of adult footsteps running after.

 

    “Peter!” He heard the man shout, “Put those scissors down-- oh my god, stop running with them!”

 

    This was unexpected. There was a child here, but that would mean-- no, that couldn’t be it. He would’ve known already. Tony didn’t have a kid-- no, he _couldn’t_ have a kid, that wasn’t possible-- okay, well, maybe it was, considering Tony’s background.

 

    He pushed into the kitchen and sure enough…

 

    “Rhodey! Thank god… I am in _way_ over my head.”

 

    Tony stood there, balancing a child on his hip, and holding a pair of scissors far out of reach of the child’s grabbing hands. He looked a mess, dark bags under his eyes, hair unkempt, and a 5 o’clock shadow that was actually becoming more of a beard at that point. It occured to Rhodey that no one had actually seen the man in a week and a half, and based on the man’s appearance, that really made sense.

 

     “Is- Is that… a baby?” Rhodey choked, ignoring his friend’s greeting.

 

   Tony rolled his eyes, “Of course he’s not a baby,” he said, “He’s four.”

 

    The child lunged for the scissors, but the man held them out further, “Tony, I wan’ the scissors!”’ the child whined, but Tony shook his head.

 

    “Well too bad, you’re not getting them.”

 

     Tony glanced back at this old friend, tired. He hadn’t slept for days, Rhodey could tell. He couldn’t really process what he was seeing, much less believe he was seeing it. Where the hell-- and when the hell did Tony get a child?

 

    “I need to talk to you,” Tony said to him, and Rhodey agreed. Talking was-- Talking was good. They needed it. Things needed to be explained.

 

    “Let’s go to the living room,” Rhodey suggested. Tony nodded, following wordlessly. He carried his child over to a coffee table which was covered in crayons and coloring pages, something Rhodey hadn’t noticed on his way in.

 

    “Peter, how about you do some coloring, huh?” tony suggested, pushing some crayons towards the boy who stared at Rhodey with round eyes.

 

    Peter turned to Tony, slightly lowering his volume and talking into Tony's ear the way that kids do when they think they're whispering but they're really not.  

 

    “Whose that,” he said.

 

    “That's my friend Rhodey,” Tony answered, he handed Peter a blue crayon, “Here, take that,” he said, “I need to talk to him, so how about you stay here and color, yeah?”

 

    Peter nodded, grabbing the crayon and getting to work on coloring in Captain America's shield. Tony led Rhodey to the other side of the room where they were out of earshot from the child, but where Tony could still keep an eye on him.

 

    “I'd say we step out for a minute, but I'm pretty sure the kid still has his sights set on those scissors, and I don't know how I'd explain to CPS that I let him stab his eye out within the first week of me having him,” Tony explained.

 

    He glanced back at Peter, and continued, almost hysterical, “Hey, did you know that when a child's custodial parent dies, custody is just given to the other parent, even if they haven't even been in their lives for four years?”

 

    “Uh…”

 

    “Because I didn't! It doesn't even make sense, Rhodey. I can't be a father, why would the state _possibly_ think it was a good idea to give _me_ a child?”

 

    “Tony--”

 

    “And then, I have his aunt and uncle breathing down my neck, because according to Richard Parker, custody should be left to them, but did Mary agree? _Noooo_ , because she custody to _me_ , and I guess the state agreed with her, because here _I_ am.”

 

    “Tony!” Rhodey shouted, effectively shutting the other man up. “You need to calm down. You're working yourself up, and you still haven't explained shit.”

 

   “Oh. Right.” Tony said, drawing in a deep breath. “Well… Do you remember that Stark Industries gala we had in New York in 2002?”

 

    Rhodey nodded.

 

    “Well, I met a woman, and well, you know how it goes with me… We parted ways after that night, but nine months pass, and boom! I have a kid.”

 

   Rhodey frowned, “Okay… Well, I kind of figured this would happen eventually, no offense, but that doesn't really explain why all this is catching up to you _now_.”

 

    “It's not all just catching up to me now. I've been paying child support for years-- and look, she's even sent me pictures.”

 

   Tony's phone was then shoved in his face, the gallery opened to show the pictures Tony had collected over the years. Rhodey wasn’t particularly interested in looking at baby pictures, wishing more for the rest of the explanation.

 

    “How did you keep all this from us?” Rhodey asked.

 

    Tony shrugged, “I mean, I didn’t really talk to the Parkers that much. Mary just sent me occasional photos because I had asked. She didn’t want me involved, and really, she had every reason to. So I backed off… I was there for the birth, and then I stayed out of their lives for four years. But…”

 

    Tony paused, glancing pitifully at the boy at the table who was still busy at work coloring. “Two weeks ago, the Parkers were flying somewhere for business, and their plane went down. Peter had been staying at his Aunt and Uncle’s place, but then the parents died, and Mary had _me_ in her will, me! And since I’m his biological father, the state decided that I have the better case than the Aunt and Uncle, you know, the ones that the kid actually knows. God, I suck.”

 

    Rhodey quirked an eyebrow, “Tony, you know you could have just said no to custody, right?”

 

    Tony looked incredulous, “Well I can’t just reject my own son!”

 

    Rhodey sighed, “Tony. Do you want this kid or not?”

 

    Tony looked like he was becoming growingly frustrated, he threw his hands about in some vague fashion, “Of course I do! But I can’t just take him away from his Aunt and Uncle! That’s like text book villainy!”  

 

    Rhodey cocked his head, “Well? Have they tried contacting you? Have they made a case for custody?”

 

    “Not yet…” Tony said meekly, “They wanted to try and sort it out with me before getting the courts involved. But I didn’t know what to do, so I called you.”

 

    “Seriously, Tony? Me?” Rhodey said, surprised at his friends idiocy, “Why didn’t you call Pepper, someone whose job is to-- I don’t know,  actually help you with these things?”

 

   “Are you kidding?” Tony asked, incredulous, “I can’t tell Pepper, she’ll kill me!”

 

    “She’s going to find out at some point.”

 

    Tony sighed, “Rodey. Please, just help me figure this out.”

 

    Rhodey stared Tony down for a long moment before relenting. “Fine,” he said, “First things first then, we should probably get in touch with them.”

 

___

 

     _Tony thought that Rhodey might kill him in a minute_ if he didn’t calm the hell down and stop pacing so much. But Tony’s nerves ran high, anxiety setting in his chest and staying there. He’d gotten in contact with May Parker the night before and had invited her and her husband, Ben over for dinner that night. The two were supposed to arrive in ten minutes, and he couldn’t help but let his freaking out escalate a little every time the minute changed. He’d already gone around the house three times to make sure it was spotless, which it was, curtsey to the cleaning staff, who after all this, would be seeing a raise some time soon.

 

     Rhodey and Peter were sat on the couch, Peter keeping a careful distance from who to him was a stranger. They both watched Tony intently, Rhodes growing more and more exasperated with him each lap he’d completed around the living room, and Peter watching him with rapt attention.

 

     He was excited about this, on the kid’s behalf at least. What Tony had discovered in the week that he’d had the kid, was that young children tended to grieve differently than older people. He wasn’t even sure if Peter was even old enough to really understand all that was happening. He seemed hopeful that his parents were coming home eventually, and it filled Tony with a sad sort of bitterness for the child. No child deserved to lose their parents that young. He wondered if he was cursed, Tony’s parents had died relatively young-- certainly before their time, before Tony was ready for it. Had he passed his bad luck down to his son?

 

    Peter refused to be alone too, he’d developed something akin to separation anxiety, even taking comfort in some strange adult that he had only known for a week. Tony wondered if he understood that Tony was his father-- he wasn’t sure how he _would_ know. The kid was too young to understand what ‘biological father’ even meant, and he was too young to know that sometimes fathers could absolutely shitty people who wouldn't have anything to do with the kids.

 

    Peter didn’t sleep well, and he wouldn’t be away from Tony. Every day he asked about his parents, and when he wasn't asking for them, he was asking when he would get to see his aunt and uncle again, and Tony felt like the shittiest person alive, because he truly was being greedy. He'd done it for himself, the way he had swooped in and uprooted the kid from his life when he was happy with the Parkers. But what really made it all worse, was despite knowing how awful he was, he still hated the idea of giving Peter up, and he knew he wasn't going to let it happen.

 

    But May and Ben were coming any minute, and he knew that the child would be ecstatic, so for that, he was happy for him, and he hoped, that they would quickly be able to come to an agreement that would be good for everyone involved.

 

    The doorbell rang, and Tony felt like throwing up. All three heads snapped towards the door. Tony turned to Peter, whose attention had shifted off of Tony’s pacing, and turned towards the front door.

 

    “Hey, buddy,” Tony said, “I think there’s someone at the door that you might like to see.”

 

    Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes. The unasked question from the boy seemed to be _“Who’s here?”_ But Peter did not voice this, instead making grabby hands at Tony who complied and picked the kid up in his arms.

 

    He made his way to the door, balancing his son on one hip, and when he opened the door to reveal who was behind it, the reaction was immediate.

 

    “Ben!” the child shrieked, wriggling out of Tony’s hold to get to his uncle. Tony let the child go, glad to see that Peter was so excited. Ben knelt down on the floor so that he was level with Peter, and the four year old went crashing into the man’s arms.

 

    “Hey, buddy,” the man chuckled, “We’ve missed you, have you been good for Tony?”

 

    Peter nodded, diving into an in depth explanation about what he’d been doing that week, which surprised Tony a little, in the week that Tony had had him, the child didn’t seem to talk all that much.

 

    Tony turned his attention away from the two of them, letting them have their moment. Instead turning to the woman who had entered with Ben. This must've been May. He held a hand out for the woman to shake.

 

    “Tony Stark,” he said, introducing himself, “Of course, you probably already knew that.”

 

    The woman's greetings was terse, and she spoke to him cooly, “May,” she said reluctantly taking his hand.

 

    Tony figured he might be met with some well earned hostility that night, but when it happened he hadn’t expected it to be so unnerving. He’d dealt with plenty of hostility before, he was Tony Stark. A lot of times, it was mostly amusing, but just from the get go, he decided that May must be a force to be reckoned with.

     

    Distracted by introductions, he had failed to notice that Rhodey had come over to stand beside him.

 

    “You must be the Parkers,” he said, “I’m Rhodey, a friend of Tony’s, and on his behalf, I’d like to apologize for not getting in contact with you two sooner, he is… An idiot.”

 

    May snorted, “Oh,” she said, “You, I like.”

 

   Ben chuckled, holding Peter with one arm, and using the other to offer his hand to Tony. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said, “I’m Ben.”

 

    Tony shook the other man’s hand, glad that Ben was a little more friendly than his wife,  but then he figured it was a good system; having one of them there to be civil, and then the other there to make it clear that they were upset with you. He’s done the same thing with Pepper, only it wasn’t so much of a system, as it was him just being rude, and Pepper trying to do damage control.

 

    “Well then,” he said, “Dinner’s ready, if you want to come in, and uh, we can get down to business.”

 

     _When dinner was finished, Rhodey, deciding that Peter_ didn’t need to stick around while adults argued about him, had taken Peter from the dining room and into the kitchen to find dessert, and Peter, who had been shying away from the man since he’d met him, suddenly had no qualms about being near Rhodey, having been bribed with sweets.  This left Tony alone with the Parker’s without any moral support. He was starting wish that he had called Pepper, because _she_ wouldn’t do him like that.

 

    “Well…” Tony said, “I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I’m not really one to beat around the bush, so I’ll get straight to the point: I want custody.”

 

    May sat up straighter in her seat, folding her hands out on the table in front of her, and Ben set his glass down. They both exchanged a look, and Tony figured they were probably having a silent conversation about him through looks. He realized now, that maybe he _should_ have beat around the bush.

 

    “Honestly,” Ben said, breaking the silence, “We figured you probably would have said that.”

 

    “Yeah,” May said,  “Generally, if a person doesn’t want a kid, they’re not going to hold them hostage for a week.”

 

    “I- I didn’t…” Tony stuttered, looking away.

 

    May snorted. “It was a joke, Stark. Relax.”

 

    “Here’s the thing,” she said, “For our case, this whole custody thing is a total mess. First, there’s the conflict of wills, and if we’re going off of precedent, Mary’s wishes would have trumped Richard’s because you have parental rights, and you paying child support was proof enough of paternity for the state, which is why you were dumped with Peter. However, a case could be made for Ben and I, because we knew and had a good relationship with our nephew, and Richard left custody to us, so we both have a stake in this.”

 

    Tony blinked once. Twice. Three times. “Wow. Okay,” he said, “That was a lot of information all at once-- are you a lawyer?”

 

    May shook her head. “No,” she said sweetly, “I just wanted to be prepared in the event that we have to drag your ass to court. I did my research.”

 

    “Basically, what we’re saying, Mr. Stark,” Ben said, “We acknowledge that legally, you have a right to guardianship-- And while we appreciate you for standing in for the past week while we made sense of things, we have a relationship with Peter, we’ve been in his life for the past four years, and honestly, it’s just hard for us to understand why it’s only just now that you want to be Peter’s father. You’ve had four years.”

 

    Tony frowned, the words stinging. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? He’d had four years. Why didn’t he make a claim for custody _before_ if he was so adamant on keeping it _now_? Maybe taking care of his child for a week had open his eyes a little.

 

   Tony sighed, “I think,” he explained, “There’s always been a little, well-- maybe more than a little-- regret on my part, about Mary and Peter, and just about how everything had played out…” Tony paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. He rubbed at his chest, a bit of a nervous habit for him, and continued.

 

    “Mary hadn’t wanted me there-- and well, obviously I’m me, and my old man kind of sucked… Uh. So it didn’t really take much for me to agree to stay out… But for whatever reason, I still went to the hospital when he was born, I don’t know why, I just did, and… Just being there, and holding him was almost enough to make me change my mind about the whole thing.”

 

    “But I didn’t… And just, I feel like, in the back of my mind somewhere, that I regretted that, that I was wrong. And then, everything happens, and I have a social worker blowing up my phone one morning. I couldn’t just turn Peter away for a second time, so I go down to the social services office, and they let me meet him-- and I’m really not that good with kids, and maybe I haven’t always been the best person in the world, but I don’t know. I meet my son for the second time, and that was enough to change my mind. I can’t _not_ be in his life now.”

 

    Ben nodded, and something in May’s expression softened. “Well…” She said, “I suppose you did a good enough job this week… Peter doesn’t seem too scarred or anything like that…”

 

    “Look, Stark,” she said, “I’m going to level with you. I am not your biggest fan, but my husband likes you fine, and I guess we both just want what’s best for our kid, I suppose we can work something out. And maybe, you’ll prove yourself not to be so bad.”

\---

 

     _As it had turned out, settling custody with the courts didn’t take that long,_ provided you had really good lawyers, and you were Tony Stark.  

 

    Things with Ben and May had gone well enough. Currently, where they stood with custody was an every other week kind of deal, while May and Ben also got Peter on holidays. That was fine with Tony, he was never really that big on celebrating holidays anyways.

 

    However, there was one more thing that remained to be done, and admittedly, it was probably something that should have been done first.

 

   “ _I’m sorry, what?”_

 

    “I have a son.”

 

   _“A what-- Tony, where are you?”_

 

Tony sighed, “I’m in New York, Pep, where I’ve been--”

 

     _“For the last three weeks, yeah, something that you’ve yet to explain.”_

 

Tony groaned, letting his forehead fall against his hand. “I’m trying to explain right now! Look, can you just focus on the important part that is: I have a son?”

 

     _“I heard that, Tony, it’s just-- what? I don’t-- Since when? And why haven’t you told anyone?”_

 

“It’s a long story,” Tony explained, “And I’m _trying_ to tell you now, if you could just come to New York--”

 

     _“You want me to fly all the way across the country? I have work to do.”_

 

Tony threw his free hand up. “You’re not even gonna come to meet my Son? Can’t your work wait?”

 

     _“No,”_ Pepper explained, “ _Because_ someone _needs to take care of the work you’ve neglected when you disappeared for three weeks.”_

 

“I had a child to take care of!”

 

    Silence fell on the other end.

 

    “Well?”

 

 _“Tony, I can’t believe you--_ ” she said _, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”_

 

Tony quirked a smile, “Thank you--” he said, but she had already hung up.

 

    “Are you mad?”

 

    A meek voice came from beside the couch, startling Tony. He jumped where he sat, hand coming to clutch his heart,  before realizing that the voice had belonged to Peter.

 

     _“Peter_ , shit, you scared me-- it's late, why aren't you sleeping?”

 

     Peter faltered, he shied away a little, and his gaze turned downward. He looked apprehensive, like he had been caught breaking a rule and was waiting to be reprimanded.

 

    “I-I heard you yellin’”

 

    Tony frowned. He hadn't been yelling, at least he didn't think he had. Maybe raising his voice a little, but he wasn't loud enough to wake someone up who was sleeping in a different room.

 

    “Really?” He said, “You sure you weren't just eavesdropping to start with? Because that's kind of rude, kid.”

 

    Peter shook his head no, but four year olds weren't particularly known for their lying skills, and Tony could see through him pretty easily.

 

    “Uh huh.” Tony said, getting up off the couch, “That's what I thought,” he grabbed Peter under his arms and hoisted him up, “Come on kid, it's way past your bedtime.”

 

    Peter huffed, resting his head on his father's shoulder. “I don’ wanna go to bed.”

 

    “That’s tough kid, but I make the rules around here, and I say it's bedtime.”

 

    Peter pouted, but allowed Tony to put him back in his bed without any fuss. Tony bent down and picked a little blue blanket from the floor.

 

    “Do you want your blanket?” Tony asked, handing the blanket to the child.

 

    Peter shook his head. “No. I want Mama.”

 

    Tony deflated, he sighed long and hard, and sad smile braced the father's features. “I know you do, kiddo-- I'm- I'm sorry.”

 

    Tony was a smart man, a genius. He was rarely stumped by anything, and being presented with something he truly could not understand both frustrated and filled him with some sort of childlike glee at the prospect of learning something new, and chance of discovery.

 

    But even the tallest of Giants, the bravest of heros and the smartest of men could be stopped short in their tracks simply by the musings of a child.

 

    And dammit, did not knowing what to do this time bother him. There was nothing good about this challenge. It just made him feel sad and stupid.

 

    How _was_ he supposed to respond to that? How was he supposed to care for a mourning child? He'd read up on _everything_ about grief in children, and still knew nothing about how to deal with his own.

 

He wondered if May and Ben fared any better.

 

   “Are you my dad? Is that why I have to stay here sometimes?”

 

    Tony stiffened, he fumbled for words so he nodded mutely, forcing a smile to his face.

 

    “Yeah, buddy, I am.”

 

    Peter nodded at the confirmation, picking at a thread hanging from his covers. “I already had a Daddy,” he said, “He died.”

 

    Tony wondered if Peter would become angry with him, lash out at him for trying to replace Richard. He wouldn't be surprised if he did, he thinks that's what _he_ would have done. But that's not what Peter does.

 

    “But I think you're pretty good too,” he said. He flipped over on his side, burying his face in the pillows. “Night night!”

 

    Ten minutes later, and Peter was out like a light, but unfortunately for him, Tony couldn't say that he'd gotten much sleep himself that night.

 ---

 

    “ _Peter if you don't start using that fork correctly, so help me…”_  It was eight in the morning, Tony hadn't slept, and Pepper was supposed to be at the house in half an hour, one could imagine why Tony was feeling a bit frazzled.

 

    He watched Peter tear apart the waffle he was eating with his hands, having forgone silverware. His hands were a sticky mess, and he only used the fork he'd been given to mash up his breakfast into a gross syruppy mess of mush.

 

    Tony didn't eat, opting instead for coffee and coffee only. He knew that maybe he should be modeling good eating habits for his son, but sometimes things just didn't work out and you had to say “fuck it,” and add another shot of espresso.

 

    Peter held out a hand full of the sticky mush to Tony, to which the man barely suppressed a gag, and pushed Peter's hand back towards his plate.

 

    “Er. No thanks, kid. You keep that.”

 

    Peter stared at him with comically wide eyes, and he look just as indignant as a four year old who's just had his gift of soggy waffles turned away could look.

 

    Tony shrugged, “Sorry kid, I've already eaten.” That was a lie, but Peter didn't know that.

 

    Just then, the front door opened, and Pepper called out.

 

    “Tony, I'm here early, where are you?”

 

    “We're in the kitchen,” Tony called back.

 

    Heels clicked down the hallway, announcing the woman's arrival before she entered the room. She stopped in the doorway and Tony could have laughed at the her expression.

 

    “Alright…” she started slow, “So it's true, you have a kid.”

 

    Peter drew closer to Tony at the arrival Pepper, hiding his face behind Tony's arm.

 

    “This is Peter,” he explained, “Can you say hi to Pepper, Pete?”

 

     Peter poked his head out to look at Pepper. He stared at her for a long moment as if he were trying to decide if he was supposed to know the strange woman.

 

   He shyly waved his hand at her, whispering out a soft “Hello,” before going back into hiding.

 

    “Hi, Peter,” she said kindly, “I'm Pepper, I work with your father.”

 

     Then she turned to Tony.

 

    “Do you care to explain?” She said, arms crossed.

 

    Tony smiled sheepishly, “I do-- and I will,” Tony said, “But Peter's kind of a sticky mess right now-- so I should probably take care of that first.”

 

    She raised her brow, but didn't push him. She turned back around, and started walking away. “I'll be in the living room,” she called over her shoulder, “Please don't waste time.”

 

    Twenty minutes and a long winded explanation later, Peter was crouched on the living room floor pushing some toy cars back and forth. Tony sat in an armchair next to the couch where Pepper sat. Her body was angled towards him, and he had full view of her very unimpressed face.

 

    “So let me get this straight,” she said, “You get a woman pregnant, and you tell no one. You have a child, and you still tell no one. Four years later, it all catches up to you and your knee jerk reaction is to pack everything up, move cross country, take partial custody of a child, and _still_ tell no one? Not even me? Not Rhodey? Obadiah?”

 

    Tony scratched his head, “Uh, yeah. I'd say you got it down to the essentials. I did tell Rhodey though. He helped me with custody.”

 

    Pepper gave him a blank stare, “You call him for that but not me?”

 

    “He said the same thing if it makes you feel better.”

 

    Pepper shook her head, “It doesn't.”

 

    Tony shrugged. “Sorry,” he said apathetically, “I had a lot going on and I sorta figured Rhodey would be the least likely to flip his shit with me.”

 

    Pepper hummed in agreement, “You're probably right about that.”

 

    The two lapsed into silence, and Tony watched as Peter crashed some toy cars into each other, he was unperturbed about the sudden silence in the room and Tony's staring didn't seem to affect him.

 

    A fond smile crept across Tony's face as Peter started adding sound effects to his little game of cars. He never understood how children could become so enraptured in something as simple as pushing a car back and forth, but that didn't really matter anymore, because Peter was content, he was happy, and that made Tony happy.

 

    He'd felt it when he'd first held Peter for the first time in that hospital, but watching the child play seemed to reawaken that thought. He would do anything for this child, _his_ child. He'd made that boy, that was his own flesh and blood sitting on the floor there, and he was perfect.

 

    Nothing Tony had ever done was perfect, all throughout his childhood he never could seem to be good enough, and it was something his father had never let him forget. His father was gone now, but that message had never gone forgotten, and on some level he never did stop trying to be the best, make his father proud, be _good enough._

 

    But there was no doubt in his mind, that maybe he had finally done something good. Created something so perfect, that even if he was the only one to see it, he knew that it was just that-- perfect. His son was perfect. Reality dictated that perfect didn't exist, but reality had never slowed Tony down in the past.

 

    “Are you sure you're ready for this, Tony?”

 

    She wasn't being critical, she wasn't challenging him, it was an honest question plain as that.

 

    But the question shouldn't have been ‘was he ready,’ because of course he wasn't. He was scared shitless at the prospect of raising a child. He didn't know what he was doing, everything he'd learned so far had been only been learned from trial and error like a shitty high school science project.

 

    The question was, 'did he want this?’

 

    And the answer was yes. Always. Even in the darkest hour. Even when he charted the metaphorical untamable waters on nothing  a metaphorical piece of scrap wood. He would always be there for his son. There wasn't a force in the world that could stop him from being this boy's father unless death came down and struck him himself.

 

There was nothing he wouldn't give, or do. No where he wouldn't go, and no where he wouldn't leave. He was a father now, and even if he hadn't had been the ideal type of person in the past, something had change, and things would continue to change.

 

    He had a child now. He'd inherited the world.

 

    He would always be there for his son. He would climb out of the deepest most grueling recesses of hell, just to prove it.

 

    And when the time came, sometime not too far down the road, he would say goodbye to Peter and depart for some demonstration in Afghanistan. He would tell him he'd be back, but he would take longer than anticipated. He would endure hell, and stare down the face of death.

 

But he would come back for Peter, even if it took three extra months.

 

He would come crawling back for his kid every time.

 

He would do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, now watch me fuck off for six years before updating again👌🏼👌🏼


End file.
